If I Close My Eyes Forever
by Warwick89
Summary: Jagar Tharn wasn't always the bitter, twisted individual he has been portrayed to be. What if Uriel's Empire created the very menace that nearly destroyed them? R
1. Close Your Eyes

**If I Close My Eyes Forever**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Oblivion as much as I wish otherwise. I make no profit in any way, shape, or form.  
**Copyright: **The Lore and Races of Oblivion is copyrighted to Betheseda, but Sev and any characters that are not canon are mine.  
The song "If I Close My Eyes Forever" as performed by Ozzy Osbourne and Lita Ford are copyright to them. I only used their lyrics as inspiration.

**Summary: **This is set during King Uriel VI and Uriel VII's reign. The lore never really specified when Valenwood was retaken under Imperical control, so I took a few liberties with this story. I made the Bosmer a bit more primative and set in lore to better showcase the brutality they probably faced at the hands of the Imperial Legion.

This story focuses around Sevinus Corkwood, the eldest child in his family. He is an experienced hunter and scout and has served time in Valenwood's royal guard for their king. I wanted to try to set the backdrop as to why and how Sevinus became Jagar Tharn and why he betrayed Uriel VII.

Be warned that I took a few liberties, so if something is not truly lore specific, I probably tweaked it a bit.  
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**"If I close my eyes forever /  
Will it all remain unchanged? /  
If I close my eyes forever /  
Will it all remain the same? /  
If I could have just one wish /  
I'd wipe the cobwebs from my eyes..."

- "Close My Eyes Forever" Ozzy Osbourne and Lita Ford

_Valenwood 3E 378..._

Sunlight streamed past the wide green foliage in narrow beams, speckling the prone elf with patches of golden light. Dark blue eyes squinted as the branches swayed, the warm sun shattering whatever day dream had lurked behind them. His long, dark blonde hair was streaked with bleached strands that were almost white, testament to long days spent in the upper boughs of his home. His weapon, an interesting compound recurve bow made of bone, rested across his chest. The arrows, also made of bone, peeked over his right shoulder, their dark brown fletching almost blending in with his earthen toned clothing. The remains of his meal were neatly piled at his feet. A humanoid skull was picked clean of its flesh, a reminder that the jovial Wood Elves had a darker side that most people took great pains to forget.

Sevinus Corkwood was his name, and the Corkwoods had a reputation for counting some of the best sailors and scouts among their ranks. They had guarded Valenwood's northeastern border for nearly two-hundred years, and probably longer than what the dates inscribed on rolled animal hides would indicate. Like most Bosmer, Sevinus had a sense of humor, but it was often dry and abrading to those who were unfamiliar with his antics. Too bad the last Imperial who had insulted him wasn't around for Sev to tell him how wonderful his head had boiled. A few of the more "civilized" races would have pointed their self-righteous fingers and cried "Cannibal!" but he didn't care. The way he saw things, meat was meat, whether it was man or mer.

But things weren't going to stay this peaceful for long. It seemed that the Empire had laid their greedy eyes on the lush lands of the Bosmer, aristocrat's minds already tallying the profit from logging their ancient trees. And if a few thousand Wood Elves died in the process, why it was more gold lining their deep pockets. Who cared if some of the coin was stained with blood?

Under the guise of goodwill, the Empire had sent several ambassadors to Valenwood. Unfortunately for them, the Bosmer had decided that they tasted better as a stew than being forced to listen to their snide barbs and the greed oozing from their pores as they eyed their property, weapons, and women. It was that atmosphere that Sevinus had fled before his strung his bow and drove an arrow into Thrax's eye socket. He was grumpy from the taxes the Imperials had levied on their fermented drinks, pushing prices beyond his meager means. There was a tense treaty currently standing between the nation of Valenwood and Cyrodiil, but the Bosmer were beginning to resent liberties that their new neighbors were taking within their borders.

And that was the very reason Sevinus had been assigned to his post. He was among the first to volunteer into the _Tu'ak'cta Dein _scouting unit, along with his sister Shevenna. After their mother had come home with a torn bodice and a bruise on her jaw, her offspring had quartered the unlucky man and left him for the _Caterwalu _to eat. His mother's eyes had held a fierce gleam that night, a hatred that grew brighter with each bloodcurdling scream.

A sharp scrape of iron shod hooves striking rock alerted Sevinus to the Imperial unit's presence. He quickly rose to his haunches, calloused hands instinctively fitting an arrow against the string. The colored bone beads in his wildly tangled hair gently bumped into one another. The first rider slowly made his way down the slope, his bay covered in frothy white sweat. The bow barely creaked as the elf pulled it into a full draw, his cold blue eyes narrowed as he aimed for the man's right eye.

The armored Imperial was oblivious to his impending death, but his assassin wasn't aware that two entire legions of heavy cavalry were just behind the ridge. So when the arrow lashed out in a whistling white streak and ripped its way through Orland's eye, his last moments of conscious thought allowed him the comfort that his Bosmer slayer wouldn't make it out alive either.

Sevinus felt his heart rise into his throat in a hard knot as two hundred Imperial soldiers thundered over the ridge, alerted by their scout's cry of alarm. The Corkwood estate was not far, as it was comfortably nestled in the rocky valley below. They rolled forward like an unstoppable machine, the sun glinting off their silver swords, maces, and bows. Sev let out a piercing whistle of alarm, but it went unheard by the other scouts as they unleashed a torrent of arrows into the galloping horde.

They didn't even slow down. That was the thing about using weapons made of bone and flint. When pitted against iron and steel, the bone simply shattered against spiked Imperial shields. A few of the more insane Bosmer literally threw themselves down among the barely controlled stampede, but their bodies were crushed in the onslaught. A few half-hearted balls of fire slammed against the ancient bark of Sev's tree, but the mages were more preoccupied by the plunder ahead.

Sevinus emptied half of his quiver before he gave up and began leaping from bough to bough, following the soldiers and peppering them with arrows. He managed to hit one mage in the shoulder, but not before a Shock spell enveloped his form and Sev fell, slamming into every branch, his body spinning violently until he landed in low shrubs. The Bosmer hit with a meaty _whump _sound and didn't move, his unconscious mind given the small mercy of not hearing the screams and battle cries as Corkwood soldiers tried to hold the Imperials back.

The massacre was over by the time Sevinus dragged himself upright, his body covered in ash from burning Graht-Oak trees. It was obvious a mage fight had waged from the sheer amount of flaming carnage that spread as far as the eye could see. He staggered toward his home, terrified by the thick black smoke boiling from the valley below. He stopped at the valley's lip, stunned by the brutality the view revealed.

Bodies were strewn everywhere, and were not limited to the adults. Children were buried in the rubble, victims of the victorious army as it tore its way to the heart of the compound. Sev eventually made it into the family mansion as night fell, the only illumination being the fires that fed on corpses and the rubble of homes. His head ached, and he could feel blood drying on his face from his bloodied nose. His heart felt like it weighed several stones of lead as he stepped over the smashed doors to find the bodies of his parents and younger brothers. All were pierced by numerous arrows, even the six-month old infant in its crib.

Sev wandered aimlessly until he found the body of his youngest sister, her body charred by fire. Something in his heart withered and grew cold as he reached out with one sooty hand to close her glassy eyes. Of all the deaths he could have imagined, it was never at the hands of an unknown soldier from a foreign land. He saw the faint forms of the other tribes who had been alerted by the smoke, their small bodies forming a loose half-circle as the rain began to drizzle down. No one said a word as the sky cracked with lightening and Sevinus howled his grief into the downpour.

He slowly folded at the waist and pressed his face into the churned mud, his hands wrenching at Tierna's pale blue robes. Sev seemed content to grieve in the rubble of his home until someone gently tapped his shoulder.

"They took Shevanna."


	2. Teach Me

"If I only knew what I know, /  
I'd shake my fist up to the sky /  
just keepin' my dreams alive... /

-"Saints and Sinners" Godsmack  
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"They took Savanna."_

Sev's sobs jammed in his throat as an icy rage crept through his veins like ice water. He slowly straightened up, black mud dripping from his face in thick globs. The Bosmer jammed his thumbs against his eyes, scraping away the layer of earth that glued his eyes shut. His eyes blazed with such an inhuman rage that the other Bosmer took several steps back. The muscles in Sev's jaw jumped as he slowly regained his feet, resembling a dripping wraith in the smoke that hugged the ground. Fires spit as rain drops fell, a disturbing counterpart to Sevinus' silence.

"How long ago?" He ground out, his voice rough and low-pitched with promises of violence.

"Nearly half a day, _Shellan,_"

Sevinus slouched, shoulders hunched in thought. His dirty fingers drummed against his wide leather belt as his mind considered various courses. The sheer amount of soldiers wasn't a coincidence, of that he was certain. Apparently the Empire had recovered enough that it wanted to retake the Providences it had once controlled. Valenwood was just unlucky enough that its leaders actually _believed _the lies that the ambassadors were feeding them, spoonful by spoonful.

Sev let out a low growl of a sigh as he steeled himself for the journey ahead. "I'm not going to ask that any of you come with me. If you are discovered, you will be considered a deserter and subject to Valenwood's laws. I now walk outside those laws, protecting a land that I value more than its principles." He ground his teeth, the strange feeling of mud and grit making them feel like tree bark.

Sevinus turned and began pulling steel arrows from men and women he had known his entire life. He placed the bloody bolts in his quiver, knowingly violating the Green Pact. Sev's upper lip curled at the tittering his actions provoked among his people, psychotic anger making his mind as sharp as a razor's edge. His mental tunnel vision prevented him from seeing the other scouts imitating his actions, dumping their arrows made of bone and flint for the superior wood and steel of their Imperial enemies.

The Bosmer looked around the destruction of his home one last time, and then slowly stalked his way to the forest edge, easily following the wide swath of destruction that the heavy horses had cut into the forest floor. There was nothing left for him here; he may as well have died in the attack. Lightly crushed leaves betrayed the actions of six scouts, also of the Corkwood bloodline, as they followed him. Their eyes betrayed the same icy wrath as their leader.

Just as the swirling smog swallowed them, Sevinus spoke to his people one last time.

"If anyone should ask of me, tell them that Sevinus Corkwood died with his kin." His voice echoed as his form became less and less clear, eventually fading into the night like a ghost.

The gently swaying branches were all that remained of them as seven shadows disappeared into the forest, taking to the higher boughs as they sought fresh air. They had no home, no wives, and no lord to which they swore fealty. They were seven men bent on a mindless determination to bring down a force that was several times their size. The Bosmer even had a name for homeless, disturbed warriors like them.

_Exhile dhoble Dhunhd. _Brothers bound by Hell.

They took their time stalking the two legions, picking off sentries and scouts like a Slaughterfish eating a school of minnows. In a month's time they had slowly dwindled their numbers to a legion, half of which were paranoid wrecks that shot arrows or fireballs at the slightest shadow in the trees. Their only saving grace was that Sev was operating under the assumption that his sister was still held by their captain.

Occasionally other Bosmer war parties would aid the seven _Dhunhds_, often joining in on the feast that followed a victorious raid. This was how the small band was able to receive news from the outside world, often turning their small celebrations into a grim silence as Valenwood lost more and more ground to their invaders.

It was during one such celebration that the Imperial unit Sev had been pursuing turned the tables and tried to ambush the Bosmer in turn.

The mage-fire made pinpoints of light glitter in Sevinus' eyes as he peered out into the dark forest, uneasy due to the silence of the night creatures. His gut instincts had warned him that the armored soldiers were up to something, so he willingly played along as they foreign warriors tried to capture his men. More often than not he had watched them from the limbs above as they struggled to cut their way through the forest rather than move with it.

He had watched their mages with great interest, wondering if there was any way he could emulate their destructive powers. The Bosmer had tried imitating their movements and chants with a small degree of success.

Sevinus played with the purple fire, shaping it and stretching for as long as he could maintain it. He was so engrossed with his "play" that he almost didn't notice the Battlemage creeping up towards him, softly mouthing a spell that would probably have blown him into smoking bits.

Instinctively he let out a bark and threw the ball of fire at the mage, and leapt for the bushes. Apparently it was a strange variant of a Flare spell because the Altmer was back, his arrogant features set into a peeved snarl. He threw a much stronger fire spell into the bushes Sev had vanished into, only to have a silver arrow pierce his right thigh.

The Bosmer took a chance and lunged from his leafy shelter, rapidly crossing the open ground and giving the Altmer a roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling with his eyes rolled back in his head. In any other circumstance Sev would have giggled at the man's expression, but the sounds of battle drew him like a Slaughterfish to a bleeding fish.

His arrows sang out into the small platoon of soldiers, easily piercing the light chainmail they were wearing. In a matter of minutes the entire skirmish was over. Sev left his men to their dinner and returned to the Altmer, his blue eyes burning with the desire for more power.

Sevinus crouched down, one gnarled finger poking the High Elf repeatedly until he groaned and opened his vivid green eyes. Those same eyes seemed to pop out of his face as it paled to resemble a corpse. Sev wasn't exactly the epitome of fashion since his clothing was barely more than rags and his face was smeared with brown and green war paint. His wild hair now sported one eagle feather gathered from an abandoned nest.

"W-what do you want?" The Altmer asked in Cyrodillic, a tongue the Bosmer wasn't familiar with. Sev simply tilted his head and eyed the mage's intricately carved staff. Lucky for the prone elf that it wasn't within his reach since he would have tried a very stupid idea.

"You," Sev pointed at the mage. "Teach this Bosmer," He jerked his thumb to his chest, not really confident in his syntax. "Your magic. Powerful magic." Cyrodillic was not his strong point, most of it consisting of curses and whatever else he gathered from stalking the Imperial camps.

The Altmer sat for a few moments, obviously considering his position. He could try to escape, but most likely the painted savages would simply kill him and eat him as their barbaric customs demanded. Or, he could try to teach this stuttering Bosmer the art of destructive magic, as well as the tongue of the Imperials. He played with the gold threadwork in his sleeve before he switched to Bosmeri.

"I will teach you, but you will have to learn the tongue of the Imperials." He saw the disgusted look on Sev's face and made a ploy at the Bosmer's greed. "Without it, you won't be nearly as powerful as you dream of being."

Several things flickered over Sevinus' face, most of them too fast for the Altmer to identify. Eventually those disturbing blue eyes focused on him again.

"Teach me well and I'll let you go. Deceive me, and I will eat you alive," Sev threatened, his filed canines eerie in the moonlight.

The Altmer took this in stride, willing to make concessions since he was dealing with a savage, after all.

"Well then, my name is Manfred. Oh, and let's not forget about your dear sister."


End file.
